Titianus during all this festive season was unluckily suffering from an attack of old-standing breathlessness, and he also had his hands full; at the same time he did his best in helping Pontius in seeking out the sculptor Pollux.  Both men did their utmost, but though they soon were able to find Euphorion and dame Doris, every trace of their son had vanished.  Papias, the former employer of the man who had disappeared, was no longer in the city, having been sent by Hadrian to Italy to execute centaurs and other figures to decorate his villa at Tibur.  His wife who remained at home, declared that she knew nothing of Pollux but that he had abruptly quitted her husband’s service.  The unfortunate man’s fellow-workmen could give no news of him whatever, for not one of them had been present when he was seized; Papias had had foresight enough to have the man he dreaded placed in security without the presence of any witnesses.  Neither the prefect nor the architect thought of seeking the worthy fellow in prison, and even if they had done so they would hardly have found him, for Pollux was not kept in durance in Alexandria itself.  The prisons of the city had overflowed after the night of the holiday and he had been transferred to Canopus and there detained and brought up for trial.

Pollux had unhesitatingly owned to having taken the silver quiver and to having been very angry at his master’s accusation.  Thus he produced from the first an unfavorable impression on the judge, who esteemed Papias as a wealthy man, universally respected.  The accused had hardly been allowed to speak at all and judgment was immediately pronounced against him, on the strength of his master’s accusation and his own admissions.  It would have been sheer waste of time to listen to the romances with which this audacious rascal—­who forgot all the respect he owed to his teacher and benefactor—­wanted to cram the judges.  Two years of reflection, the protectors of the law deemed, might suffice to teach this dangerous fellow to respect the property of others and to keep him from outbreaks against those to whom he owed gratitude and reverence.

Pollux, safe in the prison at Canopus, cursed his destiny and indulged in vain hopes of the assistance of his friends.  These were at last weary of the vain search and only asked about him occasionally.  He at first was so insubordinate under restraint that he was put under close ward from which he was not released until, instead of raging with fury he dreamed away his days in sullen brooding.  The gaoler knew men well, and he thought he could safely predict that at the end of his two years’ imprisonment this young thief would quit his cell a harmless imbecile.